And The Lightning Strikes
by Freespirit127
Summary: During a thunderstorm, Lifeline learns a valuable lesson.


**Disclaimer:** Unfortunately, Lifeline's not mine, and until someone hands him to me with a red bow around his neck, he's Hasbro's, Marvel's, IDW's etc. Sandy, Josh and Emily are mine. Oh, so is Pepper. Thank you very very much to Amy for the beating, um, beta'ing. ;)

**And The Lightning Strikes**

"Okay," Sandy Carson said as she slipped into her jacket. "I don't think you'll have to worry about anything. The kids are fed, bathed and tucked into bed. And all the important phone numbers are..."

"... on the list on the fridge. I know, honey." Edwin Steen's voice held a hint of nervousness that didn't escape his girlfriend. "Are… are you sure you want me to do this? Maybe you should call Courtney or Lydia…"

"No, we won't call either of them!" Sandy said, slightly annoyed. "Wayne's just come home after almost three months. He and Courtney deserve some quality time together. And Lydia has her hands full with Lonzo and both boys down with the chicken pox."

Wincing, Edwin remembered the day before, when the Joe's tough-as-nails ranger had come into the infirmary, begging to be shot so he wouldn't have to deal with this "unbearable" itch any longer.

"And since Dash is on another of those mysterious assignments that no-one is supposed to know about but yet everyone does, I'm afraid you'll be on a solo mission, soldier," Sandy said as she reached for her purse. "Listen, Eddie," she said, sighing. "I know you're scared. But you're not like your father. You won't hurt the kids. I wouldn't leave them with you if I wouldn't trust you."

Gently, she placed her hand against his cheek, and Edwin leaned into her touch. "You can do this. Don't worry. Everything will be just fine."

Outside, a car's horn was being blown.

"That's Maria. I gotta go." Quickly she pressed a kiss on Edwin's cheek. "See you in the morning."

With that, Sandy grabbed her purse and was out of the door before he had the chance to say anything.

"Okay," Edwin said. He looked up the stairs, where the children's bedrooms were, and took a deep breath. Slowly he walked to the living and sat down on the couch. At first he started zapping mindlessly through all TV stations, not really finding anything he would like to watch. So he switched off the TV and started to look for something to read. There were quite a few medical journals on their small end table, but Edwin had already read them all. Just as he was about to pick up the latest one, he spotted one of Sandy's crafting journals.

"Scrapbooking Special." He picked the magazine up and started leafing through it. "Maybe this will tell me what she likes so much about it."

After a few minutes, Edwin indeed started to understand why Sandy had started scrapbooking. The sample layouts were simply amazing. Even the most plain landscape pictures looked like little works of art combined with papers and assorted accessories.

He turned another page and came to a section devoted to family pictures. Immediately Edwin closed the magazine and put it away. Pictures of happy families were something he could barely stand, since his own had been anything but happy.

Involuntary, Edwin turned his head towards the chimney and felt another sting when he saw the photographs on the mantle.

Josh in his baseball gear. Emily, covered in dirt after a soccer match. Sandy, holding both of them close to her. All three with Sandy's parents. Sandy with Edwin himself, both smiling brightly into the camera. That one sent a smile to his face, but only until he spotted the last one, the one that always hurt him when he looked at it.

It was a picture of a young man sitting in a rocking chair, holding a baby in each arm.

Dennis. Sandy's late husband and father of her children.

About 18 months after he'd been killed in a robbery, Sandy had taken down all his pictures, except for this one.

When Sandy had invited him to her house for the first time, he asked why she had chosen to leave that particular picture up.

"Dennis may not be able to see his children grow up, but I will not deny them to see _him_ and how much he loved them."

She'd never know how much this photograph hurt him. Every time he saw this picture, Edwin became terribly jealous. But he wasn't jealous of the man in the picture. He was jealous of the children. He envied them for something he'd never have.

Like Josh and Emily at the time of their father's death, Edwin had been very young when his mother had passed away, too young to have any memories of her.

His father had never given him the chance to learn anything about her. Fairly shortly after the funeral, Henry Steen had destroyed every picture, every family movie that even had the tiniest glance of Laura Steen in it. Nothing had been left. When he'd gotten older, Edwin had often asked about his mother.

The only answer he'd gotten were slaps across the face or a beating with an old leather belt. Unfortunately, Laura had no relatives but Edwin and Henry, and Henry had broken off contact with his own family shortly after the wedding.

Now, as an adult, Edwin could understand that any memory of Laura had caused his father pain, but he would never be able to understand or forgive Henry for denying him any knowledge about his mother.

Sandy's children were lucky to have a mother who loved them enough to push her own pain aside for a moment, just to answer any questions Josh and Emily may have about Dennis.

Feeling a headache coming on, Edwin decided to go upstairs and try to sleep. On his way to Sandy's bedroom, he passed the children's rooms. Out of instinct, he stepped into Josh's room.

As usual, the boy was sprawled on his bed, one hand hanging over the edge, the blanket kicked down to his knees.

Edwin hesitated at first, then quietly walked to the bed and pulled the blanket up to Josh's neck. For a second Edwin stood there, watching Josh sleep. A soft smile appeared on the young man's face when he realized how much Josh looked like Sandy.

Moving out as quietly as he had entered, Edwin decided to look in on Emily as well.

The little girl was still tucked in tight, hugging a stuffed spider -which, as he suddenly recalled was named Mathilda. As Sandy had told him, Emily was a light sleeper and prone to waking up at the slightest sound. So Edwin carefully stepped backward, avoiding the creaking panel, and finally entered the master bedroom where he plopped down onto the bed and quickly fell asleep.

Hours later, a loud crashing noise woke Edwin. At first, disoriented as he was, he thought that something had exploded somewhere in the neighborhood. But then a flash of lightning and the sounds of raindrops hitting the windowpane caught his attention.

"Phew," he said to himself. "Nothing like being woken by a thunderstorm at... he glanced the alarm clock on the nightstand, "0300 .

Yawning, he sat up and switched on the lamp next to the alarm clock. There was no way that he could go back to sleep now. He'd always hated thunderstorms. As a child, he'd hidden under the covers of his bed, his hands clamped tightly over his ears. Only one time had he sought refuge with his father...

...and received another severe beating, from which he still had a scar left.

_"I didn't raise my son to be a coward," _his father had yelled.

Another lightning flashed. Shivering, Edwin turned away from the window. Suddenly, he had the feeling that somebody was watching him. Carefully, he turned his head to the doorway and saw a small figure standing there, clutching a stuffed spider.

"Emily," he said, exhaling a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding it. "What are you doing here?"

The little girl didn't answer. She just stared at him, shivering, her eyes wide as saucers.

Before Edwin knew what was going on, another thunder crashed in the distance...

...and he suddenly had a small, dark-haired and miserably sobbing child hanging from his neck.

Before his brain even had a chance to register what he was doing, his arms had wrapped themselves around Emily.

"I'm scared," she sobbed into his shoulder.

"I... I know. Me too."

_I just don't know what scares me more, _Edwin thought, _the thunderstorm or you._

Emily pulled away from him.

"But you're an adult. Adults are not s'posed to be scared."

The seriousness in her voice almost caused Ed laugh, but he suppressed it, feeling that it might upset Emily even more.

"You know," he said, "that's not quite true. Adults can be scared too, by a lot of things."

"Like what?"

He thought about it for a moment.

"Well, don't tell him I told you, but..." he leaned closer to whisper in Emily's ear. "Dash is afraid of butterflies."

Emily giggled. "Butterflies? But they are pretty and small and they don't bite anybody."

"I know. Or take our friend Shana. She is afraid of spiders."

Emily gasped, surprised. "Even of Mathilda?" she asked incredulously, clutching said spider to her chest again.

"No, I don't think so," Edwin said and reached out to touch the black and yellow striped spider. "Mathilda is a special spider. Everybody can see that."

Beaming proudly, Emily nodded. Then, her little face grew somber again.

"Mommy's afraid of fire." Now Emily leaned forward conspiratorially. "She burned off her hair when she was little because she played with matches."

Edwin nodded. He'd already suspected something like this a while back when Sandy had jumped after Cooper had lit a cigarette with a match while standing next to her.

"What are you afraid of?" Emily asked innocently, playing with of one Mathilda's legs.

"A lot of things," Edwin sighed. "Thunderstorms for example. And snakes."

"Have you ever been bitten by one?"

"Not yet, fortunately."

"My daddy was afraid of hamsters because one bit him when he was a kid."

Edwin looked at her surprised. "Did your mom tell you that?"

Emily nodded. "She tells us a lot about him. But it's not the same."

"What do you mean?"

The little girl sighed, suddenly seeming older than six.

"I see his pictures and our videos. But... it is like watching a stranger." She looked directly into Edwin's eyes. "I don't feel like he's my daddy."

Another thunder rolled outside, causing Emily to jump and clinging so hard to Mathilda that her knuckles turned white.

Edwin regarded her for a moment, feeling terribly reminded if the one and only time he had sought protection at his father's side.

Henry's reaction had been a beating.

Edwin did what he had wanted his father to do. He pushed the blankets aside and fluffed up Sandy's pillow.

"Come here," he said softly.

Wide-eyed, Emily looked at him. Normally, Edwin kept a distance to her and Josh, but if he was going to protect her, she would not complain.

"Can Mathilda come too?"

"Sure."

Without hesitation, Emily quickly crawled into the prepared spot, but instead of laying down on her mother's pillow, she snuggled up close to him, placing Mathilda on his stomach.

And suddenly, his fears and insecurities towards Josh and Emily began to fade away.

He looked down on the little girl, who was busy sorting Mathilda's legs so that the spider was comfortable.

It was an odd thought for him that a six-year-old child knew how he felt. Emily and her brother had lost her father at the same age Edwin had been when his mother had died.

That moment he realized something. Even though Emily and Josh knew bits and pieces about their father, they'd never know _him_, just like Edwin would never know his mother.

His pain of never having known would probably never fade away. But maybe he could do something to ease the pain that Josh and Emily felt.

With a deep breath, he carefully wrapped an arm around the little girl and pulled her close. Smiling, Emily leaned into the embrace.

"I like you," she said sleepily.

"I like you too," Edwin finally admitted to her and himself. "And Mathilda of course."

"Mathilda," Emily yawned, "likes you too."

"Try to sleep now. When you wake up, the thunderstorm will be gone."

"Promise?"

"Promise. Now close your eyes and think of something pretty."

He could feel Emily nodding. With his free hand, he reached out and pulled the blanket around her. Then, he leaned back, never letting go of Emily, and listened to the rain hitting the windowpane. The thunderstorm passed by overhead, the rain washing away the dirt in the air and a big part of Edwin's fear and his father's shadow.

The next morning, Sandy finally came home at 6 AM. It had been a long and rough night for her. When the thunderstorm had started, she had wanted to call Edwin to ask him about Emily.

But then the storm had knocked out one of the base's major power stations, causing a black-out - and with that came a series of accidents.

At first, it had been a corporal who had fallen down a flight of stairs and broken his elbow. Then came a female sergeant who was in shock after setting her hair on fire while trying to light candles, and then there were the two buzzed geniuses who had to re-enact Benjamin Franklin's kite experiment. They had gotten away lucky with only suffering third degree burns on their palms, but those would be the least of their worries once Conrad and Wayne got the accident report.

Once they were done treating eveybody -with Sandy taking special care of the woman with the burned hair- the thunderstorm had passed, but Sandy's worry hadn't. A few times she had tried to call home, but she had barely picked up the receiver when something came up each time.

At the end of her shift, Sandy had been very impatient to get home. She had promised Edwin nothing would happen. She'd never expected the sudden thunderstorm.

Carefully, Sandy opened the door to her house and stepped in. As she hung up her jacket and her bag on the wardrobe, she felt something rubbing her calves.

"Hey there, Pepper." Sandy greeted the small gray-white cat and picked her up. "Bet you spent half the night under the linen closet, huh."

"Meow."

"Thought so."

Slowly, Sandy climbed up the stairs, while Pepper licked her neck, clearly happy to have her favorite grown-up human back.

Reaching the top of the stairs, Sandy quickly decided to check in on Josh first. The short glimpse made her smile. The boy was still sprawled out on his stomach, but now his arms were both on the bed.

Smiling, Sandy continued to Emily's room and found it empty. After setting down a protesting Pepper, Sandy quickly looked under the bed and in Emily's closet.

When she didn't find her daughter, Sandy knew where to find her.

Quietly she walked into her own bedroom. What she found there made her heart leap with joy. Edwin was leaning against the headboard -in a position he would definitely regret once he woke up-, one arm protectively holding Emily who was lying half across Edwin's chest. His other arm held Mathilda, his hand covering Emily's.

Sandy watched the scene, then made a quick decision and walked downstairs to get her digital camera. There was always room on the mantle for another picture.

End


End file.
